


Business is Business

by profane_bubble (giggling_bubble)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Depression, F/M, First Dates, Lunch, Misunderstood, Out of Character, Rehabilitation, Repentance, Sex, Soulmates, Surprises, dysfunction, superfecundation, working through it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-10-16 19:53:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10578354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giggling_bubble/pseuds/profane_bubble
Summary: I'm not good with summaries.Ladybug finds an emotionally turbulent Hawk Moth, repentant, and decided she was the one to help him through it. In her own inverse emotional turmoil she opened herself to Chat. Then in walked Adrien. That's just when the world flips on it's head and they're all paying for it.This is a little OOC and a good bit cracked. You've been warned.Will end well!!!





	1. Impulses

Tricky.

She hadn't anticipated the day to end this way.

Marinette had been Ladybug for a while now. She was graduated from high school and was hoping to break into the fashion industry in a big way, but initially gained very little traction. The problem was finding the opportunity to showcase her stuff. Although, just on her own, she was making enough money personalizing things for people, but the work was tedious. She wanted to be able to diversify and reach a larger customer base with her designs.

She'd been offered an internship working for the Gabriel brand. Her days consisted of sketching dozens of designs for her designer mentor to sift through and take credit for. Honestly, that's just how it worked. Her name got put in a list of 'contributers' to a project and her mentor took all the credit; even if, in the grand scheme of things, the design was entirely hers. Luckily, within the past couple months, someone had taken notice as her designs were being requested to bypass her designer mentor and go directly to 'The Floor.' It referred to the thirty-eighth floor of Gabriel Headquarters where the executive board sits. They are the ones who hire prospective designers. Marinette just crossed her fingers and prayed something wonderful would come out of it.

One night, working late at Agreste Studios on a professional competition submission, her mind kept wandering to less than pure thoughts thanks to an overly flirtatious partner. Every now and again her mind still drifted to the golden boy she'd lost her chance with. She decided to transform to get home faster to release some of her tension. As she hopped to the roof of the building her breath stuck in her throat. Standing there, just in front of her, was Hawk Moth, and he looked equally as shocked to see her.

"Ladybug?" he spluttered in surprise.

"Hawk Moth?" she squeaked, very unlike Ladybug.

"Where did you?" He glanced around and grabbed her wrist. She pulled out of his hold and switched; now she had a hold of his wrist. Something told her it was too easy. He gasped as she pulled him closer. He stiffened.

"What are you doing here? Terrorizing more innocent citizens?" she hissed. After a moment she could see his eyes were closed and his breathing was erratic, "Hawk Moth?" He was shaking. "Hey?"

At the softness in her voice, he snapped his eyes open, but was still turning his face away from her, like he she was offensive. There hadn't been an akuma in months. She really thought something had happened to him, but here he was, standing on the roof of the Agreste Studios building like nothing had happened. The look on his face was rigid and he still hadn't said anything. Something had happened. That's when she noticed he was avoiding her like she was causing him pain. She realized Hawk Moth was still a man under that disguise. He wasn't just his villainous persona. There was someone behind that mask. Marinette prided herself on not judging or jumping to conclusions about people; not even someone as notorious as Hawk Moth. True, he'd been after their miraculouses and terrorized people, but he hadn't done anything irreparable...yet. She was going to take the higher road and show compassion for her former foe. She'd explain to Chat later.

"Look at me," she commanded. He opened his eyes again and peeked down at her, but his face contorted as if she'd struck him. "Are you all right?"

He shook his head no and pulled away from her. She roughly pulled him closer, "Don't you dare." She caught him off guard and he stumbled into her. That's when she felt it. There was a distinct erection pressed against her abdomen and he inhaled sharply.

"Sorry," he whispered and looked away again, stretching to his full height as he arched away from her.

"Are you...because of me?" His silence answered that; yes. She had been sexually frustrated lately, thank you flirtatious Chat Noir, but could he sense the tension? Yes.

"No akumas," he stated as if that explained his inability to control himself. It wasn't much of a leap for her to connect the dots; akumas were his emotional outlet. He was an empath without a release. Although, she could see he wasn't telling her the whole truth.

She didn't really care right now. Marinette internally felt joy bubbling up inside of her. Hawk Moth had been defeated because he was enamored with her. That made her feel good, actually, in a strange way. Even so, it was rather flattering. So overwhelmed, and regardless of his excitement, she let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around him in a hug, "I appreciate it." There was a heavy dose of sincerity lacing her words and she tried desperately not to cry in relief. She'd always feared for her and her partner's safety. There was that fear that one day things would be irrepairable and she'd never recover. Her heart had slowly begun to soften towards her Chat Noir and she didn't want to constantly worry she'd never have a chance to analyze and explore their relationship...someday. Tikki insisted he was her soulmate, after all.

Hawk Moth was tempted in that moment to steal her miraculous as she wrapped her arms around his midsection, out of habit and instinct, but he restrained himself. He'd become fond of the super-heroine over the years. She'd thwarted him time and time again; a worthy adversary. Then, she started to mature into a woman. That was when he'd started to notice her in a different light. He didn't tell her, but he'd been sending out additional 'ordinary' akumas to watch her. He'd even had them working to keep her safe by weeding out the criminal rabble he had no control over to execute some control. Pulling punches, keeping tabs; all for her. He wasn't sexually attracted, per se, but he was currently a sexually starved man and she was really close to him in a revealing suit. His reaction hadn't been intentional, though he was genuinely fond of her. This erection was completely unexpected and embarrassing. Although, in his sexually starved state, and being an empath to hers, he wouldn't lie and say he didn't want it at the moment.

This is how it happened; Hawk Moth noticed how her laugh would wrinkle her nose, her eyes would sparkle, and how overwhelming emotions came bubbling out of her in adorable squeals. It was too much and broke him. His cold heart had melted. Although, in the absence of akumas, he had missed seeing her. He began coming up to the roof to see if he could catch a glimpse of her jumping from building to building at night. Alas, she hadn't been active and it was heartbreaking. The loneliness became more and more intense. He had been tempted to release another akuma for his own emotional release and as an opportunity to see her, but he knew that if he wanted to stay on her good side that was NOT going to get him any bonus points.

He did find her counterpart obnoxious, but even he had begun to soften him. He reminded him of another blonde he was fond of. There was even a bit of tenderness there because many aspects he found endearing. On more than one occasion he'd found himself secretly hoping Ladybug would give the poor boy a chance. He liked the idea of them together.

The nearness of her polished the hard edges of him away and he wrapped his arms tenderly around her; holding her tight and sighing. "You wouldn't understand," he whispered, "I'm not a nice man." She listened intently and he went on, "I have been mercilessly pursuing you and your partner for selfish reasons. Love, actually. My wife has been missing for the better part of a decade and I just wanted her back. I have decided it was time to let her go." His body was physically shaking as he talked like he was terrified of his own emotions.

Ladybug felt tears mist in her eyes. What the heck, Marinette? You don't have feelings for Hawk Moth. This man is evil. _No, he is misunderstood, not evil_. "Love isn't selfish," she mumbled against his chest. She tried to pull back, but he held her. He was starving for the contact.

"Please," he whispered. She obliged and wrapped her arms back around him, "I've been trying to change. I am overwhelmed with emotions, constantly, but my personal feelings are magnified in intensity. For the longest time it was sadness, fear, and anger. Now..."

"Now?"

"Loneliness," his voice cracked, "and Lust." Both of which, Marinette realized, she was radiating. Magnified? Intensity?

Ladybug looked up at him and he was finally looking back. She could see his steel gray eyes staring into hers. "Oh."

"That's why I am up here."

"Because you're lonely?"

"I was trying to catch a glimpse of you," he smiled softly.

Marinette's head was swimming. He was feeding off of her and there was very little she could do. How did she fix this? This was a lot to process. There had never been a man genuinely interested in her in this way, before; not seriously. At least, not that she could tell. There was potential they could help each other with their respective problems, but he was Hawk Moth?! There was no way she'd ever be with Hawk Moth, and yet...


	2. Queen of the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***Explicit Chapter Warning***
> 
> This one, this one right here, has a very uncharacteristic sexual experience between HM and LB. I admit, it is unorthodox, but NOT intended to repeat at all later in the story. (MISTAKE)
> 
> Read at your own risk. If it isn't your thing, pretend you read it and skip to chapter three. (and read note at the end of this chapter)

Ladybug stood in front of Hawk Moth and felt herself leaning into a hand he'd placed against her cheek.

"You really have grown into a beautiful woman," he smiled. Then his face contorted, appalled, "That is not appropriate." He pulled his hand away and hissed.

"Thank you," she blushed, "All the same."

"I am, sincerely, sorry for..." His voice cracked with emotion.

"You could always make it up to me," she smiled, "We could help each other work out some...frustrations."

His head jerked up and his eyes widened. Was she suggesting what he thought she was suggesting?

"PROMISE to only use your miraculous for good," she urged.

"I can make no guarantees." His head shook sadly. He really wanted to.

"If I'm to help you I expect you to. Can you do that? If you don't, I'll hunt you down without mercy. I also want details. I want hideouts, reasons, everything. I want to be able to hold you accountable."

He gulped, "My..." he gestured to his face.

"Eventually? Yes. I don't need that right now." He audibly sighed. She did grasp his hands in hers and noticed a silver band on the middle finger of his left hand. Though it was on the wrong finger, it was definitely a wedding band, "Are you married?"

He frowned and looked where her fingers were touching the band, "I am, or was, I don't know where she is or what happened to her." The way his voice trembled made her heart break a little for him.

"Now, I'm sorry." It had a very fine brushed band with fine engravings of rose vines around the perimeter.

He lifted her hand to kiss it. Then he turned to her, "May I kiss you?"

She thought for a moment. This man was hurting. She'd never really been intimate with anyone, not in the way they were headed, so she wasn't sure what was the right course of action, but it felt right to help him to heal in whatever way she could. Yes, even Hawk Moth. He was trying to turn his life around, after all.

"Yes," she nodded. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to her lips. She was surprised with how delicate the kiss was and how supple his lips felt. She leaned into it and deepened the kiss.

When she pulled away she saw the thirst in his eyes. He was like a man lost in the dessert and he'd just found an oasis. "I can do this for you," she stated, understanding the unspoken dialogue between them, "But we can't have a relationship. This can only happen once. I'm going to do this for you and I expect cooperation in return."

He nodded in understanding and smiled; Hawk Moth knew she needed it almost as much as he did by the way she was emitting sexual tension in waves.

Ladybug chose to omit telling him she was a virgin. It didn't matter to her and she didn't want it to matter to him. It really wasn't that important. No one would have to know; that's what birth control was for. Thankfully, her cycles had made it a necessity regardless of extracurriculars.

Hawk Moth took her hands in his and a flurry of butterflies showed up to carry them away to a large domed room. It was the observatory for the former Paris Science Center. "This is the 'hide out' or whatever you called it," he stated as they were released by the butterflies.

"What do you call it?"

"The observatory," he shrugged, "It is the one place on earth I let myself feel."

"You don't feel?"

"I feel too much," he frowned, "And here I can allow myself to express the emotion without ruining myself."

"Ruining yourself?"

He chuckled humorlessly and gestured to his face, "I have a reputation to uphold."

"So when you feel sad, you feel the sadness of all the other sad people, in Paris, more intensely than other emotions?"

"With the miraculous, yes," he nodded, "I'm an empath, but the miraculous magnifies it to the point that it is crippling if I don't channel it."

"Akumas?"

"Akumas," he nodded, "I've been trying to channel in a positive way, lately."

"I'm happy to hear that," she smiled.

He gently guided her to a door in the shadows. It opened into a room with a bed, a bookshelf, and a computer. "This is where I come to escape when it gets to be too much."

Ladybug looked around the room and sighed. It was hard to think that the untouchable Hawk Moth, the most notorious villain in Paris, would come to this bare, modest room to break down. It was humbling.

"I see. Is the emotion too much right now?"

"No," he shook his head, but then she saw his eyes were glistening.

"Liar," she squeezed his hand.

"I will warn you; I might unravel a bit."

She nodded, "It's okay. I won't judge you for feeling." With that a tear dripped down his cheek. He really did feel emotions more strongly than other people. She wondered if the miraculous magnified anger and hostility, too. If so, and he was in mourning, the miraculous might have made everything stronger; the anger, the sadness, the rage. Compassionate Ladybug could sympathize with her enemy, Hawk Moth, and she felt vindicated for what she was about to do. She wondered if he could feel her guilt. Something told her he could, but it was overshadowed.

He pulled her after him as he sat on the bed. When he got there he flipped the lights off and the entire room was plunged into darkness. "You can release your transformation. I promise, I won't turn the lights on until you're transformed back."

"You, too?"

"Of course. Wings fall," he sighed. There was a brilliant flash of violet light.

Marinette released her transformation and there was a flash of pink light. "Papillon?"

"Pet names, already?" he chuckled.

"I'm not calling you Hawk Moth. You are changing and your name should reflect that." She put both of her hands on his shoulders.

"Agreed." He pulled her closer to him and felt her put a knee on either side of his waist.

"Nice threads," she giggled, "Designer, I'd say." He broke into sudden hysterical laughter as she pulled his suit jacket off. "What's so funny?"

"You are," he sighed, wiping tears from his eyes.

She held the jacket in her hands, "It is custom, a light feel, smooth weave, cashmere, high super...400?"

"Amazing!"

"Silk cravat," she kept mumbling. With each article she removed she placed a soft kiss on his face. "A silk dress shirt." She gently slid her hips closer to his torso and rolled gently. A small, shaky groan escaped Papillon's lips. "Just checking," she whispered before capturing his lips with hers. This time, the kiss was more energetic. His lips moved with hers fervently. They were both gasping as she pulled away.

He lifted her shirt over her head and chuckled, "Cotton t-shirt. Casual, obviously."

"Comfortable," she pouted.

He reached her bra and she felt his hands shake.

"How long has it been?" she asked.

"Too long, but it isn't that."

"What's is it?"

"I've only ever been with my wife," he whispered.

"I understand," she placed a chaste kiss to the end of his nose. When she placed her hand on his cheek she felt a fresh tear, "Think of this as platonic, medicinal. I know you still love your wife, but everyone needs to feel loved."

His fingers slid underneath the underwire of her bra and slipped to the back to unclasp it. When his hands wrapped around her, and he pulled her close, she gasped. Their bare fronts were warm against each other. She could feel the broad, muscular chest rising to meet hers with every breath. His heart was a strong, steady, 'lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub.' That verified he has a heart and it needs some TLC.

A delicate sigh escaped her lips as she laid her hands against his ribs on the side of his torso. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around to his back and gingerly glided her fingers up and down his muscles. He quivered under her touch and let out a shaky breath.

She stood up between his legs and grasped his hands to help him rise. They stood in front of each other in the darkness. Marinette noted just how tall he was; 6'3" or 6'4". His body was lean and muscular. Her hands made their way to his belt and she unclasped it. Papillon was holding his breath.

"Breathe," she placed a gentle hand on his stomach. He did as she asked and she smiled. With a swift pull the belt came out and clattered to the floor. Her nimble fingers swiftly undid the button and pulled the zipper down. There was a relieved sigh which told her all she needed to know of his current state of turgidity.

His fingers found her jeans and quickly undid them as if it were nothing. They both seemed to know their way around buttons and zippers.

She reached out her hand and gently massaged the length of him. Marinette had nothing to go on to gauge his size, but let's just say he was well endowed. His breathing became erratic and his gasps were broken.

"Are you okay?" she asked, pausing.

He trembled, "Yes," but his voice cracked.

"Do you want to continue?"

"Please," he whispered.

Marinette noted that he had warned her he might unravel. She leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to his glans and she heard erratic gulping breaths.

"Shh, shh, shh, you're all right," she soothed, "Would you rather just cuddle a minute?"

He grabbed both of her hands and pulled her to the bed with him. There was an absence of him for a moment and then a hand grabbed her wrist, pulling her down to him.

Once on the bed he wrapped his arms around her and she felt the tension he'd been holding in his body melt. This was SO much more than sexual to him. What she was getting was sexual gratification. What he was getting was emotional. Marinette was going to try her best to be more considerate of his needs and sensitivities; doing her best to protect the citizens of Paris, right?

He held her so gently; like she was a fragile China doll he was afraid would break. Marinette leaned her head back into his neck and nuzzled there. He sighed softly in her ear and she closed her eyes. Who was this enigmatic man? He began to run his hand along her side, humming softly, "Why are you so kind to me? I have done nothing to deserve it."

"It isn't whether you deserve it or not. You need it. I know and I can help," she whispered. "No more talking. No more guilt. This is a safe space and there is no judgement. Don't judge me. I won't judge you. Focus on trying to feel how you want to feel." She would do the same. With a gentle tip of her hip backwards she felt his erection rub gently against her cleft.

Instead of tensing, this time he chuckled, "You're sure?"

"Yes," she answered. It was more of a 'I think so.'

"Have you been with a man before," he asked gently.

Damn it. Here she was going to try to avoid this topic of conversation.

"No," she whispered. To her surprise, he didn't stop petting her. Instead, he took a his hand and gently grasped her breast.

"Why me?"

"Because I don't wear it as a badge," she sighed, "I just haven't had the opportunity present itself."

He nodded, "Oh. Do you want me to be extra gentle?"

"Maybe to start? I really just want to listen to my body and I'll let you know."

"All right," he placed a gentle kiss to her shoulder. Papillon made a mental note how he was thankful the bedspread was crimson. There was potential for this to be a bit messy.

He pulled his hips back from her a moment and placed himself at her entrance. With his fingertips, he parted her lips and gently slid his glans into the opening.

She gasped and hissed, "Are you going to fit?"

He sighed heavily, "Yes, eventually." Without a second thought, he wrapped his hand around to the front of her legs and began to gently massage her clitoral hood. There was a steady rhythm to it as he took his other hand and entered his middle digit into her.

"God!" she gasped, arching back to meet him. As he quickened his pace her breathing turned into panting. "Ah...oooh..." He placed another finger into her and felt a flood of fluids. "I'm...so...close."

That was his cue. He pulled his fingers out and grabbed himself again. With his other hand, covered in her juices, he coated himself and slowly entered her. He was patient while waiting for her to body to adjust to him. She gasped as fully sheathed himself.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yeah," she nodded. Her head was swimming. It was like her body had instantly been doused in a hot fluid that ran from her head and tingled all the way to her toes. They didn't love each other, so there was little passion, but the way it felt was amazing. She realized the 'quick and dirty' option could be a lot of fun, too.

She felt him pull out before thrusting himself back in with a grunt. His hands wrapped around her stomach and held her against him; her back against his chest. It was comfortable. Never in a million years would she have expected to feel secure in the arms of this man.

His pace sped up as he kissed her shoulders. Marinette couldn't contain the little huffs with each one. When he shifted slightly, and changed the angle, he was hitting a completely different part of her inside and fireworks exploded.

"There!" she whined, panting, "There."

He moaned and hummed in her ear as he sucked on her neck just above her shoulder. As his pace picked up his hands went to her hips and he flipped her onto her stomach. There was more leverage for him from here and he could reach deeper. Marinette's mind was blanking and her arms were frantically searching for something to hold. Reaching ahead of her she managed to find a headboard and wrapped her fingers tightly around it.

"Please," she begged.

His responding grunt and stuttering hips told her he was close and so was she. With a couple more well placed thrusts she lost her mind with spluttering and buried her face in a pillow as she came. Her tensing muscles around him was his undoing. There was a final thrust as he spilled into her, hot and long overdue. The reaction was immediate; a loud groan and spasmodic jerking of his hips.

Afterwards, he laid back on his side and pulled her after him. He wrapped his arms around her chest in a hug and whispered, "Thank you." When he withdrew from her she called for Tikki to transform her back and he did the same with NooRoo.

Ladybug sat on the bed next to him and grasped his hand, "I needed that, too. Now, give yourself another chance and don't give up on finding another woman to fulfill your emotional needs. All right? I'm sure she's out there."

"Can I ask you one thing?"

"Shoot."

"Why haven't you done the same?"

"Pardon?"

"Chat Noir is obviously over the moon for you."

"Is he?" Ladybug was taken off guard by that.

There was an awkward pause, "Were you unaware?"

"He's not serious. Chat's never serious."

"He may not act that way, but look in his eyes. The eyes don't lie and he only has eyes for you."

"You can't know that," she started.

He smirked into the dark, "I can." There was a long pause so he sighed heavily, "Empath."

Her breath caught as she tried to think about all the times he'd flirted with her. Could Papillon be right? No. No. Her timing was atrocious. Here she could have actually been satisfied by the object of her affections. Then again, this little tryst with Papillon was quite satisfying in more ways than one.

"Shit," she cursed.

Papillon chuckled, "I'm sorry. I thought you knew."

"No," she groaned, "I didn't."

"You should really go to him."

Ladybug sighed, "Sloppy seconds?"

"Ah, on second thought, perhaps a shower and a visit tomorrow," he agreed.

"This has been a rather memorable experience, but I'm afraid I have to go. I've got meds to take and sleep to catch. Don't give up. We'll talk about this later. I want to see you again. How about here on Wednesday at 7:00?"

"Wednesday?" he climbed onto the computer and pulled up a screen. "Please shield your eyes." Ladybug closed her eyes as he brought up a schedule. "Yes, Wednesday at 7:00 will be fine. You can open."

She opened her eyes to a dark room once again. "Have a good night."

"Good night."

When she opened the door she could see his face in the moonlight. There was a completely different look about him; relaxed, content, quenched. A small smile pulled at the corners of his lips. He'd be all right.

Now she just had herself to worry about. Tomorrow, she had to find her kitty. They had a LOT to discuss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug begins to call Hawkmoth, Papillon, and he tells her that Chat Noir truly loves her. She's doubtful, but he reminds her he's an empath. He knows it to be true.
> 
> Next...


	3. Messy

It was time to meet up with Ladybug. He kept glancing at the time. She was a few minutes late. The concrete was cool beneath his knees where he knelt to wait. A purplish haze tinged the sky with wisps of pinks and orange cirrus clouds. A hint of linen carried on the breeze. Chat leaned back to breathe in deeply. This was as close to home as he had; up on the tops of buildings waiting for his lady to return to him.

"Chat?" her voice was fragile, shaky. It had a nervous tinge to it. 

Marinette was dreading this. The entire day she'd been pacing her room, riddled with nerves, at having to confess the lines she'd overstepped. When she ran into Hawk Moth it just wasn't at all what she'd expected; _he_ wasn't at all what she'd expected. There was a gentleness and a conflicted turmoil inside of him that radiated. She picked up anxiety and knew he was misunderstood. One thing Ladybug wouldn't stand for was injustice and Hawk Moth, even as a villain, had been wronged. That wasn't anything she'd let be. Although, now, after the way the night ended she was nervous about relaying it all to Chat. Ladybug cared about him more than she'd ever thought before. He was her kitty and nothing could change that.

"My lady!"

Bless him! Look at that brilliance lighting up across his face in his excitement to see her.

 Ladybug looked at him uncomfortably, "Uh, how are you?"

"Purrrfectly pleasant, my lady." He grinned, but it quickly disappeared as there was a prolonged, awkward pause, "Are you all right?" Ladybug was definitely NOT all right.

She sighed, "Sorta, kinda. I'm..." _Conflicted_.

Now he was really starting to freak out a little. This wasn't the strong, confident Ladybug he'd come to know.

"Ladybug?"

"I did something--foolish," she frowned, "and I don't know what to tell you." I decided to go see Hawk Moth, because I found him without you, so naturally went to see him without you. In retrospect, perhaps that wasn't the best decision. Especially, since we decided to do our own budoir buchata.

"Honesty is usually the best--" he stopped talking when he saw her face fall. Guilt. Oooh, ouch. "What did you do?"

"Chat," her lips screwed up and then pushed into a pout, "I think I'm f-falling for you." Honestly, yes. She could do honesty. Let's start with that. Lead in with the truth that matters, huh?

He smiled, "That's not so bad. Is it?"

She frowned and his face morphed to match, "I've done something awful. I mean, really awful."

"What is it? Just spit it out. It can't be that bad."

"I want you to know why, first. I mean, I don't want you to jump to the wrong conclusions. Good news! No more akumas," she said it cheerily with an awkward grimace.

His eyebrows shot up, "Really?! How do you know?" Because, wow, that's amazing.

"I, uh, talk-ed to Hawk Moth." Yes, in person. Like an idiot.

Chat's lips pressed into a thin line, "That was incredibly dangerous, Ladybug."

"I know," she whispered, "It was weird. He was waiting for me." Chat gasped. Apparently, she was still alive so there was more to this story. "He was, heartbroken is the only thing I can think of. He explained the akumas and, I'm sure it would sound crazy now, I was almost entranced. It was rather...unexpected."

"Ladybug?"

"We might have done things," she sighed heavily, dropped to her knees, and buried her face in her hands, "I'm so sorry. I feel--"

The look on Chat's face made her shut up. He looked like he was going to throw up, and rightfully so, with a painful expression clouding his features.

"Chat--"

"Don't," he whispered, "I'm...I don't know what to think. Or how I feel." Confused. Yes, that about sums it right up.

"You can hate me," she whispered, "I wouldn't blame you."

Chat frowned, but then his expression softened, "I find it appalling, yes, that you might have been intimate with Hawk Moth. Although, I realize there's probably more to it. Am I right?"

"Yes," she gulped. A tear dripped down her cheeks.

He kneeled in front of her, "I could never _hate_ you, Ladybug, because I love you."

"Even if I--"

"I don't care," he pursed his lips, "I do want you to explain...later. If I do recall, you said you were falling for me."

"That's all you took away from that?" she chuckled, her heart swelling, "I don't deserve you, Chat."

Chat's eyes widened, "LOOK--Ladybug--I don't CARE!" he emphasized, "If you took pity on a villain, in his moment of weakness, to keep him from terrorizing Paris?! I don't see HOW I could be mad." Who are you with now, Ladybug?

"Chat, we--"

"I don't want to know," he said, "I really don't. I love you. Do you hear me? I love you." A grin broke out across his face. He threw a fist into the air and whooped. He'd never had the nerve to come out and tell her that before; not to her face. The nervousness radiating off of her, the sheer terror of losing her, only pushed him to confess and it felt so liberating to finally do it.

"You. Love. Me," she whispered, looking at her shaking hands, "You. Me. Love. Like _love_ love?"

"I'm not _lion_!" he chuckled.

What he hadn't expected as Ladybug barreling forward and tackling him to the ground. Her lips were on his face, kissing him senseless, and Chat was, for once, speechless.

Once he'd regained his bearings, Chat reached up to grasp her cheeks and still her face. Her cheeks were soft and cool to his heated palm. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips which gave gently to mold to his own. It was tender, and passionate, with all the years of pent up feelings poured into it. Ladybug responded in kind; her lips parting to deepen the kiss. The sweet taste of ambrosia!

Their little dance happened in the darkness of the rooftop. Everything progressed quickly, far too quickly. Before they knew it, Ladybug and Chat had dropped their transformations, panting, as they peeled each other's clothes off in rapid pace. In the darkness they were not able to see the other, but even if they had been able to, neither would have cared in that moment. They knew they'd have to do this quick before someone had a chance to interrupt, but their urges weren't going to wait another minute. The emotional intensity was immense and unforgiving.

Chat had nestled himself between her legs; a quick removal of his belt and the tug of a zipper. His hands were reveling in the feel of her soft skin as they roamed her sides and her back. He trailed kisses along her collar bone and she reciprocated by suckling his neck. Ladybug gently ran her fingernails down his back, and rubbed her cheek affectionately against his hair, letting out moans of approval. Suddenly, he stilled, "Ladybug...I don't have a--"

"Birth control," she whispered, "I just need you in me. Now."

That was all the more he needed before delicately parting her folds and pushing forward, slowly. The gentle way he pushed forward made her feel worshiped and precious. The tip of him met the warm fluids and he gasped.

Her body responded with a shiver and a moan, "Ah."

"Are you okay?" he asked. Unsure to continue, he just held her gently.

"Yeah," she nodded. She was still sore, actually, from the night before.

He let out a soft groan as he pushed forward. His hips stopped flush against her and they both panted against each other's faces. There was a moment where he stopped and took a deep breath, "Whoo, ah. So good."

"Please," she whispered and wiggled her hips. He didn't need any more prompting. He pulled out and plunged back in. Chat quickly fell into rapid, rhythmic thrusts. Time was not on their side. They were both panting and out of breath.

She grabbed a hold of his hair with both hands and pulled him down for a kiss; to silence his and her moans. They couldn't have someone finding them on this roof. Ladybug began lifting her hips to meet his with enthusiasm until her thighs began to quake.

"Chat...I'm...I'm gonna..."

"Come for me," he whispered. As if on command, Ladybug began to tremble beneath him. Her walls gently squeezed as he began to shudder. The world became completely black for a second as he spilled into her with a grunt. There was a lot of trembling afterward, "Whoa." He shivered, "That was incredible."

"Amazing," she agreed.

He pulled away from her and they both transformed back into their masked selves. She laid her head on his chest and he hummed.

"I must be the luckiest girl to have a partner like you," she whispered.

"I feel the same, bugaboo," he nuzzled her hair and grinned.

"I have to work tomorrow, though, so I have to go," she pushed herself to sit up. "I really wish I didn't have to."

"Yeah," he nodded, "I have to work tomorrow, too."

"I guess we should both be headed home."

"Is there anyway we could..." he motioned to their faces.

She smiled, "I'm not ready, now," he frowned and she reached out to grab his hands reassuringly, "But soon. Okay?"

He grinned, "Okay."

"I just need to work some things out in my civilian life first. All right?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "That's understandable."

She leaned forward and gave him a sweet kiss on the lips before heading home, "Good night, Chat."

"Good night, my lady."


	4. Righting It

Marinette raced through the studio, unable to focus on her work, but trying desperately. Her feet were smacking the concrete at an alarming rate. They were supposed to be meeting in the conference room at 9:00. Her phone chimed just as she ran through the door. She glanced up and her stomach dropped into her feet.

There were four designers sitting around the table and Gabriel Agreste at the head.

"Miss Dupain-Cheng, would you like to enlighten us as to the reason for your intrusion?"

_Gabriel Agreste said her name._

She glanced down at her phone that said, 'Meeting moved to 10:30.'

"Um, I just got the message the meeting was moved," she sighed and shoved her phone in her pocket, "Pardon my intrusion."

She quickly left the room and ran back to her little cubicle. "Whew." Her mind began to race and her heartbeat picked up. There was going to be a lecture. The man said her name. Normally, she'd be excited he actually knew who she was, but she was his son's friend. Of course he knew her name. So far it hadn't done her any favors. The way he spoke to her, surprisingly less cold than she'd expected, reminded her to breathe. Maybe it would be okay.

Her phone chimed.

Miche Tresse (her mentor): We will talk later.

Marinette groaned and placed her head on her arms. Miche was in that meeting with M. Agreste. Marinette sat up, took a deep breath, and shook it off. Her sketchbook was sitting there, neglected. There were pencils scattered all over the desk, a minute later, as Marinette filled pages madly. Her adrenaline had provided inspiration after inspiration.

Glancing over one of a gold flecked, teal dress with a sheer overlay and a slit up the side was one of her favorites. It was set to the side. Next, she began designing a shawl that would go with it. It would be a teal sheer with gold flecks and a little sapphire clasp. Within twenty minutes she had the entire ensemble done. After that, she moved onto some more casual looks.

It had been close to an hour when Miche peeked into Marinette's cubicle.

"So..." she started, "What was that?"

"I...uh. I didn't get the notification until I got there. I swear."

Miche pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, "Hot damn."

"What?"

"You're lucky M. Agreste is in a good mood. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen him in a good mood, consider yourself double lucky! He pointed out some of your sketches that had come across his desk..."

"WAIT! My sketches?"

"Yes, dear, if you don't remember. I've been circumvented, if you don't recall. Darling, I would normally say I'm upset I'm losing your talent from my team, but I do so love a good success story."

"What are you saying?"

"Well, I'm here to offer you a position on the design staff at Gabriel. I believe your location of employment will be changing. I can't offer you a thirty-eighth floor slot, but you will have your own office downstairs on the second."

"What's there?"

"Studio space," she sighed, "I know, a total bore. Although, there is a nice lounge not far from you. It's where the eye candy tends to socialize between shoots."

"I'm going to be on the staging floor?"

"I know, darling, I know. I tried to see where we would have space elsewhere, but the renovations on third are taking much longer than we'd anticipated."

"No, I don't mind."

"Oh, you really are a darling," she sighed, "Well, hup-hup, get going. You can start moving now! I've already got your key." She held out a little ring with a key on it.

"Thank you," Marinette took it gratefully. She glanced down at her watch and rolled her eyes, it was time for her ACTUAL meeting. She grabbed her stack of sketches and ran down to the conference room.

She was going to be late, again. The elevator was moving slowly so she opted for the stairs. Her pencil was hanging out of her mouth and her arms grasped her overfilled portfolio to her chest. It was when she tripped and fell forward that her life flashed before her eyes. She never should have taken the stairs. However, she didn't fall. Her feet had lost traction, but she'd fallen into something...warm.

Marinette breathed a sigh of relief and looked up. Her relief was quickly replaced with horror.

"M. Agreste!" she stuttered, "I'm so sorry. I thought...no one ever takes the stairs."

"Mlle. Dupain-Cheng," he propped her up to stand more stable on the stairs, "You are lucky I use the stairs."

"Oh, thank you," she blushed.

"Be more careful. You could have been severely injured." His brows knitted and he frowned.

"Yes, sir. I will. I'm so late," she looked down at her watch and side stepped, "Excuse me. I have to go. Good day, M. Agreste."

"Good day, mademoiselle."

He chuckled to himself as he saw her charge down the stairs. Although, his eyes caught a sheet of paper that had flitted down to the floor. He picked it up and noted the teal dress design. It was beautiful and reminded him of his wife. He put his index finger to his lips and steadied his breathing before changing his course, turning around, and following after Marinette. The ad department could wait.

Marinette flew into the conference room and took the last available seat, at the end of the table, and looked up into the young man's face; Neal. He was their trend director. He'd feed them facts about what was trending, glance at their sketches, and give them his ideas on which to pursue. Plus, he'd add a bit of constructive criticism to help drive them in the direction of what was popular.

"Nice of you to join us," he smiled at Marinette. "And you brought sketches!" He beamed at her as she set the portfolio on the table.

This was the last time she'd be attending this meeting. It was Miche's team, after all, and she was no longer on it as of tomorrow. The rest of the team hadn't been supplying many sketches and she knew Neal would be disappointed to see her go.

"Let's see what we have," he held out his hand and she slid a few sketches over to him.

Her fingers fanned through the pages quickly as panic set in. Where was it? The sketch she'd just done this morning. It was one of her favorites.

There was a soft knock at the door. Marinette turned her head just in time to see Gabriel Agreste peek into the room. There was a sharp intake of breath and Neal smiled nervously, "M. Agreste, to what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I believe," he glanced down to Marinette, "Mlle. Dupain-Cheng dropped this sketch. Although..." he looked down at it for a moment, "I believe I'm going to keep it." He started to leave.

Marinette stared silently in shock for a moment before her voice came back to her, "That's a set."

He turned back as she was flicking through her sketches, "There are other parts that go with that dress." Marinette quickly retrieved them and handed them to him.

"I see," there was a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. WIthout another word, he took the sketches and exited the room.

The rest of the interns on her team stared, slack jawed, and Neal grinned, "NICE!! That's the first time I've ever seen Gabriel himself hunt down an intern. It must have been some design."

She blushed and grumbled, "It was my favorite."

"I'm disappointed we didn't get to see it," Neal said genuinely, "Onwards and upwards..."

The rest of the meeting was rather uneventful. Marinette's mind was elsewhere. After the blunder of the morning was no longer forefront in her mind she thought back to the crazy night she'd had with Papillon. There was a fair amount of regret when she woke up, sore, and bewildered. She didn't deserve Chat; he was forgiving and compassionate. It was just such an overwhelmingly unusual situation. She was impulsive and, though she justified it to herself then, she still felt overwhelming regret regardless of how well he took it.

"I'm such an idiot," she sighed to herself as she carried a box of her stuff to her new office.

"Are you?"

Marinette's heart was in her throat. She knew that voice; familiar and knee quaking. _Adrien._ "Uh...yeah."

He looked at her bemused, "What did you do?"

"N-nothing. It doesn't matter," she looked at her box and blushed.

"Where are you going? Do you need any help?"

"They gave me an office today," she smiled shyly.

"An office?"

"This office," she said once she'd gotten to the end of the hall. It read 204.

"REALLY?! Hey, Marinette, my office is across the hall!"

"You have an office?" she chuckled.

"I do!"

"I didn't think models had offices."

" _They_ don't. _I_ do," he chuckled, "Perks of being me, I guess."

Marinette smiled at the idea of Adrien being across the hall. That was a very pleasant surprise.

"Plus, the best part, is all the food is right there," he pointed ahead of them, "That's where the catering people put all the food for us during shoots."

She laughed, "It'll be like old times." Although, since she'd gotten over her crush on Adrien she didn't want it to be quite like old times. Not nearly as awkward, hopefully.

"Eating lunch together every day?" he smiled, "I'm looking forward to it!"

"Are you?"

He grinned, "Of course. It'll be nice to have someone to eat with."

"Aren't there other people around?"

He frowned, "Depends. They give me a pretty wide berth."

Marinette didn't know what to think of that. There were many reasons people might give Adrien some space; he was the son of Gabriel Agreste and he didn't quite act the part of a model. Maybe they were intimidated? Or they didn't have anything in common? Or they didn't care to.

Marinette smiled and nudged him with her hip, "Looks like that's over, Agreste. We'll be like two peas in a pod."

He grinned, "Merci, mon petit pois."

Marinette felt a blush, but didn't seem to mind. She pushed her box against the door and tried to fiddle in her purse for the key. She grumbled as she couldn't find it. For once Tikki was in her pocket and couldn't help her out.

"Let me," Adrien said reaching his hand into her pouch and retrieving a key. He fit it into the door and unlocked it. Inside, there was a desk with a computer, a chair, a sofa, a couple book shelves, a file cabinet, and a large window.

"Thank you." Her box practically fell out of her arms onto the desk.

"Hey, looks like mine did," he chuckled. "Standard office setup."

An alarm on Marinette's phone began to beep. "Oh, crap."

"What is it?"

"Oh, nothing. I've just got some meds to take. I don't even know if I grabbed them."

"Do you need me to get them for you?"

"Would you?"

"Sure."

"They're on my desk."

"Been sick?"

"Ear infection. I've almost forgotten about it, actually. I'm on my last day of antibiotics," she smiled, "Finally."

"I'll be right back. Um, where was your old office?"

"I had a cubicle. You know what? You stay here. I'll get it."

"Okay," he grinned, "You know where to find me if you need any help."

She disappeared up to her cubicle. When she got there she slammed her forehead on the desk and sighed. Life was so unfair and complicated. She'd already blushed twice today, in the presence of an old flame she thought she was over. Oh, how sick, twisted, and unfair fate really is. Marinette knew her luck would never last and that her bad luck would catch up with her someday. Why did she have to be so impulsive? Why?! She felt like a slut.

That settled it. Marinette sat up and slammed her hands on her desk. No more sex. This is ridiculous. No more relationships until I can figure this all out. She'd talk to Chat about it later. Hopefully he'd understand.


	5. Teletherapy

"You did what, Marinette?"

"I lost my virginity," she said tensely with mock cheerfulness.

"No, I caught that part. It was the 'older man' and 'young guy' part I didn't exactly follow."

"There were two."

"Holy shit! Names!"

"I don't know, Alya."

"Are you into some freaky group stuff, Marinette, because jumping in feet first--wow, just wow. You know what? I'm proud of you."

"I'm not into group stuff, Alya."

"Oh, thank God!"

"Two different days."

"Okay, whatever you're taking that gives you this amazing sex appeal, I want some." There was an awkward silence, "Crap! Marinette, you were ovulating!"

"I'm on the pill, Alya."

A sigh, "I completely forgot. It's not foolproof, though."

"I know."

"And you were kind of pushing your luck."

"Oh, be quiet."

"What!? Two guys? Crazy."

"I'm done with men, though. Really."

"All because of two guys?"

"Well, and I about jumped Adrien in my office like the day after."

"Damn, girl! Get those hormones in check."

"I KNOW! His office is across the hall!"

"That is fantastic!"

"Not helping."

"Sorry, but I think it's great. Get him, girl!"

"No men, Alya. Not even Adrien."

"Hush your mouth. Don't make any rash decisions. Just go slow," Alya scolded, "You're a maneater, Marinette. Maneater."

"Rawr!" They both busted up laughing at that. "Night, Alya. Thanks for letting me vent."

"No problem, love! Now, don't wait a week to talk to me next time. I really thought you were depressed or something and I don't F with that crap! I mean business with serious business."

"No, I'm not depressed, but I think the first guy I was involved with was."

"Well, I'm not telling you how to live your life. I hope you can help him out of it _without_ sleeping with him again. You know you're going to try." Marinette could hear the knowing smirk in her voice.

"You know me so well."

"You know it girl! Night, Mari!"

"Night, Alya!"


	6. Step 1

Ladybug waited at the observatory for her new 'friend' to arrive. There was a flurry of butterflies and then, all of a sudden, there was a very stressed out looking 'Papillon.'

His thin line of his lips belied his underlying emotions that were radiating off of him. When transformed there was very little he could do about that. After all, his emotions became much more apparent and contagious, made worse when he was around someone with reciprocal emotions, which caused their snowball encounter last weekend. Yes, he was going to be more in control this time even if it hurt. Luckily, the only emotion he had right now as nervousness.

"Papillon!" she exclaimed, smiling softly to try and relieve the tension. He looked familiar for some reason with such a rigid expression, but she couldn't quite place it. "You came!"

She saw him snicker a little at that and Ladybug rolled her eyes. He might be nervous, but he never lost his dirty sense of humor.

"I...you know what I meant," she stomped her foot, flustered.

"Sorry," he straightened his lips again, but the edges were quivering in an upward fashion.

"How are you?" she asked after a second of silence.

He held onto his cane and looked at the floor, "I've been refraining from transforming."

"Does that help?"

The incredulous gasp shocked her, "Of course, it helps. You must not understand."

"No, I don't," she bit her lip nervously, "Could you explain?"

"The butterfly miraculous uses emotional energies as the catalyst and motivation to allow for certain powers to manifest. It also magnifies the wielder's natural empathic tendencies. I was a little out of control, I must admit."

"Are you a pretty empathetic person without the miraculous?"

He sighed, "I was. No, I _am_ , but I control it."

"Why?" she was shocked as to why someone would want to be unfeeling.

He looked at her, chagrined, before answering, "It is the only time I am in control." Suddenly, he was extremely fascinated with the ceiling as he sighed, "I realize you don't understand. I don't expect you to."

"No," she interrupted him and smiled, "I do. I get it. I mean, I kind of get it. I realize that after having any control stripped from you that you might want to have as much control as you can when you can. I just never really thought about it." Her face expressed nothing, but sympathy.

Papillon let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding as his whole body relaxed. He could feel her emotions shift from critical to understanding and his entire body reflected such. "I've been trying to keep it in check, behind the mask, but it is very difficult, you see?"

"I do," she nodded, "I mean, I'd like to. Is there something we could do to help make it easier? What are you feeling now?"

"I'll see if I can explain. There's this 'sea' of emotions. Right now, I am feeling," he shifted a his eyes to glance sideways at her, uncomfortable with being so vulnerable and sharing part of himself with her, "Anxious. What I'm receiving is a lot of anxiety because that is what I am feeling."

"That might be partially my fault," she said apologetically.

He smirked, "Some."

"So if you were to try to make yourself feel happy would you be able to sense the happiness of those in Paris?"

"Yes," he nodded, "But it is very hard to do that. It takes a lot of energy out of my kwami, and myself, to shift everything, intentionally. It is exhausting."

"I see. It is like pretending in life," she nodded, "Or like Chat's cataclysm or my lucky charm."

He nodded, "Yes, exactly."

"And your kwami will run out of energy?" He silently nodded.

"Poor NooRoo, he never deserved this," he sighed, "I'm also feeling...ashamed."

Ladybug walked towards him, feeling his mood projecting, and wanted to alleviate any sudden shifts. He was very volatile right now.

"Hey, let's do something. Is there a place we can go to sit?"

He smirked and glanced towards the bedroom in the dark from the other night. Ladybug smacked her hand to her forehead, but shrugged, "Lead the way."

They sat uncomfortably on the bed. Although, there were pillows at the back making it more like a couch. That first night flashed through her memories and she smirked.

"I don't have _guests_ ," he chuckled.

"No worries." They sat there a second before she asked, "So how have you been in your civilian life?"

"Aloof and calculating, as usual."

"Are you going to work on that?"

"Yes," he nodded, "I have a plan to try and transition into a more pleasant person. Anything you would like to suggest to help with that?"

"Well, being more open to communication would really do wonders," she nodded, "So talk to those you love and work at being more open to sharing pieces of yourself; how you feel, your interests, your time. It would really help. Surround yourself with people who have qualities you'd like to enhance in yourself."

He nodded and took down mental notes. There were definitely some changes to be made.

* * *

 Marinette was exhausted, it was true. Between late night Hawk Moth visit in an attempt to humanize him and then her work obligations. It was just a lot to handle.

She'd been running through polls and researching directions to take new designs to follow the changing trends. She'd been assigned the adolescent to early adult age group, considering she was the most familiar, and there had been more walls thrown up in her face then doors opening. Luckily, color trends were leading towards fuchsia and spring greens; fresh. There were also a lot of interests in calico prints and florals so she could definitely work with that. She was thankful she didn't have to work on the runway fashions. For once, she was getting to design clothes for REAL people and she might actually see some of her designs in the flesh on the street.

There was a knock at her door. Before she could say come in, it cracked and a tuft of blonde peeked in, "Hey, there, stranger!" he greeted.

Marinette had been nose to the drawing board and absorbed in media for the last week and a half. There had been a mix-up with their fabric distributor, who sent lilac instead of fuchsia, so she'd been coordinating with her design team on who to talk to and the times she needed everything fixed. It had been ages since they'd visited.

She held up a finger as she was on the phone, "Just order new. All new. We'll sort everything else out later, but I needed those prints like yesterday. Yeah, thanks."

Her face split into a grin, "Adrien!! How have you been?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing. It's been a while since we've seen each other."

"I saw you this morning," she chuckled.

"You know what I mean. We haven't really talked or anything. Let's get together for lunch today!"

The way he said 'together' was normal, like always, but for some reason her traitorous mind read more into it. "S-sure," she nodded, "We could get lunch today--together."

"Great!" he glanced down at his watch and sat in the chair opposite her desk, "I'll wait. We have like ten minutes until everyone breaks."

Marinette blushed as she glanced down at her planner, "We might as well go now. I'm not going to be able to work with you watching me."

Adrien had the good grace to look embarrassed, "Oh, I'm sorry, do you want me to go?"

"No," she held up a hand passively, "Sit. I just have a few more things to work out and I'll be right with you."

"All right."

She was rushing through her appointment book and mentally taking notes. There would need to be a phone call to Carrie, her assigned intern, to coordinate with the design department and figure out when would be the best time for drafting patterns for her designs.

There was another soft knock on her door. Her head snapped up at the same time Adrien turned in his chair. Another shock of blonde hair peeked in the door. At that moment Gabriel Agreste stepped into her office. She immediately stood, completely shocked, "Mr. Agreste." What was he doing here in her office?

"Mlle. Dupain-Cheng," he greeted, then glanced down in surprise to see Adrien, "Adrien."

"Father," he nodded.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Marinette smiled.

Gabriel stepped into her office, with a flourish, the image of power, "I was just checking in on our newest designer to see how she was settling into the new position." Completely out of the ordinary, he might add, but trying to follow the advice of the spotted heroine he'd received the night before; qualities he'd like to enhance in himself. He glanced over at Adrien and smirked, "I shouldn't have been concerned. See that Adrien doesn't distract you."

"He isn't," she smiled, "We were just heading to lunch."

"Ah!" Gabriel's eyes lit up as he glanced down at his watch. There was a nervous shift of weight, "Is it that time?"

Marinette noticed there was something there beneath the surface, a request, so she just guessed, "Would you like to join us?"

Adrien glanced at Marinette in surprise, then back to his father, with a hopeful look, "Please, father?"

It was the first time Marinette had ever seen the man emote, but Gabriel grinned warmly, "I will call Nathalie."

"Is that a yes?" Adrien asked, oozing optimism.

"Of course," Gabriel nodded, "It has been a long time since we did lunch. Allow me..." he gestured to the door and followed the other two out of Marinette's office.

Somehow, she'd just managed to invite Gabriel Agreste to lunch, but hadn't planned anything past that. She was supremely thankful he'd taken control and was leading the way; a born leader.

They followed Gabriel to the limo, that waited downstairs, and Marinette just assumed Gabriel was handling lunch plans, "Chateau de Poulette?"

Adrien grinned and tried to temper his excitement, although, it some of it still came trickling out as an enthusiastic, "Yeah!"

"How about you, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng?"

"Absolutely," she nodded, "That sounds wonderful."

* * *

Marinette and Adrien kept exchanging glances throughout lunch. His father had taken them to his reserved table, one they kept available for him in case of a visit. Adrien was shocked silent as his father ordered his food for him and got everything right; diet be damned. He'd always assumed his father didn't pay any attention to his preferences, but somehow he'd gotten it all right. He even ordered the extra cheese he always ordered for Plagg. His father had gestured to Marinette to let her order before requesting a bottle of wine to split.

 _This is new_ he mused happily.

His father poured their glasses of wine and held up their glasses, "To progress!" Adrien and Marinette grinned at each other, "To progress." Clink!

Adrien and Marinette did most of the talking, per usual, but you couldn't expect Gabriel to change his colors so quickly. He was being less prickly and that was a welcome change. Conversation didn't revolve around fashion at all, to Adrien's relief, and instead about their current hobbies.

"I'm still playing piano," Adrien nodded, "And I've been contemplating sailing."

"Really?" Gabriel's eyes widened, "Sailing? That sounds fascinating, though I have no idea why."

"It's the attractive quality of the sea," Marinette mused aloud absentmindedly, whimsically, "I'd love to go sailing."

"What has kept Mlle. Dupain-Cheng busy these days?" Gabriel asked.

"Designing, mostly. In my spare time I keep a journal and dabble in creative writing."

"Journal? Like a log of day to day life?" Adrien asked intrigued.

"Mostly."

"What purpose that does that serve?" Gabriel was curious as well.

She sighed. This might be a longer discussion than she'd thought, "Well, I like to jot my thoughts and feelings down so I can go back and get back into my head space of the moment. I write down dreams, interactions I've had, things that intrigue me, inner most thoughts and desires, feelings about things, and all that. It really helps me keep a handle on how I'm doing. It's cathartic for me." She could see Gabriel slipping into deep thought across the table. Perhaps he was considering keeping a journal.

"That sounds like something everyone should do," Adrien nodded, "That way if a lot of things are happening, quickly, you can go back and see all the stuff you've forgotten."

"Yes, it's great for that. My memory slips enough that it helps with that, too. I tend to jot down a positive thought at the bottom of every page. Sometimes it is just something I'm grateful for," she shrugged.

Their lunch visit was pleasant enough. Marinette noticed how Adrien changed from guarded to playful throughout the break. There was an air of confidence about him she hadn't seen before. Gabriel was more pleasant than she'd expected, too. Around the office he had a monstrous reputation; never satisfied, critical, and aloof. They said he'd rather treat you as an object that always displeases him than a person breaking over backwards to do what he asks; expendable.

Adrien's phone toned in his pocket and he apologized as he pulled it out. His eyes twinkled with mirth, "Father, where is your phone?"

Gabriel's glass of wine was pressed to his lips, which he set down to lift an eyebrow and stare at his son, "Left breast pocket. Why?"

"You turned it off again, didn't you?" Adrien was trying very hard not to laugh.

Gabriel didn't have any appointments so he had turned it on silent while they ate lunch. It was crass to answer a phone during a meal when in the company of others. Adrien did it anyway, thinking it was an emergency with Nathalie's ringtone. Gabriel cleared his throat and lifted it gingerly from his pocket.

"Nathalie is beside herself," Adrien chuckled.

Gabriel unlocked his phone. A hand lifted to his lips and his eyes widened, "I can see that." He slipped it back into his pocket and excused himself, "Pardonne-moi."

Adrien let his snickers escape as Gabriel disappeared into the lobby of the restaurant, "I think lunch is over. There is a tab. If you're ready we can go. Father will join us when he is done being scolded."

"Scolded?" Marinette was confused.

"Nathalie," Adrien grinned, "He listens to her and can't make it a day without her." He leaned forward, "I'm serious."

"Nathalie is not expendable then," Marinette added Nathalie to a 'don't mess with' list in her head. That was good to know.

"Heavens no," he shook his head, "She practically runs it all. My father might be a genius with fashion, but Nathalie is a savant with organization. Nothing would get done without her."

"Why doesn't he promote her then?"

"To what?" Adrien didn't know what she meant.

"She's his secretary, his executive assistant, why isn't she the chief operating officer?"

"She is," Adrien said bluntly. Marinette looked completely lost and he grinned, "She is, on paper. Nathalie hates the title. She hates to be addressed as Ms. Sancoeur, I'm pretty sure she'll hit you if you do it intentionally, and executive assistant was more her speed than chief operating officer."

"I didn't know that," Marinette stared dumbfounded.

"That's because Nathalie makes sure no one sees her file." Adrien stood up and offered his hand to Marinette. Against her better judgement, she accepted it and felt that excitement stirring in her gut. "Let's get back to work."

They met Gabriel in the lobby. His jaw was tense, but he went back to a stoic expression when they joined him. "Shall we?" he gestured to the front door.

"Yes, sir," Marinette nodded.

* * *

"I heard you had lunch with the Agreste men today." It was Miche, her former mentor standing at her door.

"Adrien's office is across the hall," Marinette jerked her head in his direction.

Miche would not be swayed. She clicked the door shut behind her and shook her head, "No, no, dear. You can't pass this off as a minor thing. Gabriel Agreste hasn't had a casual lunch with a designer in over a decade."

Marinette huffed, "Adrien and I have been friends for about that long." It wasn't something they spread around, but if Miche was going to make a bigger deal out of this than it really was, she wanted her to know that it was inconsequential.

Miche wasn't buying it. She chewed on her lip before blurting, "Gabriel would not have joined you. It is unusual. He eats lunch with Nathalie."

"Maybe he felt it rude to ask Adrien to lunch when I was also in the room; my office, by the way?" Marinette suggested, "It was just Adrien and I. We were actually heading to lunch together. He might have thought it crass."

"Yes, okay, I can see that," Miche nodded, but then zeroed in on Marinette, speculating, "I won't push. That might very well be the case. However, if it is, I think you might be a teacher's pet, Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

Marinette rolled her eyes, "Shoo, get out of my office you."

Miche hopped over to her desk, placed a quick kiss on the top of her head, and hastily scurried to the door. One backwards glance, "You know you're my favorite brat."

Marinette chuckled to herself. Of course, if Miche found out that meant it had spread. She'd be on the shit list of every designer at the company. It was one more headache to add to her running tally. Luckily, Adrien was still across the hall and he'd let her vent if it ever became too much. Plus, people might avoid her _because_ she was friends with Adrien. Not that she needed the extra help, since her talent had gotten her this far, it couldn't hurt, right? She wasn't going to use him to get a leg up, but she wasn't going to avoid him because others had the wrong idea.

As she sat at her desk it all dawned on her--she was misunderstood. She was just like Papillon. That was one more thing to write in her journal.

* * *

 

_Dear Diary,_

_Today at work I went out to lunch with my friend Adrien Agreste and his father, Gabriel Agreste. I'm still riding on a high from it. Gabriel Agreste. I can't believe it. When I got back to work Miche told me I was a pet and that means the word had to have gotten around the company. It was as innocent an affair as any. He didn't show favoritism. I haven't been using Adrien to advance my career. I'm going to have colleagues who don't see it that way. I will be misunderstood._

_I'm deciding, right now, to not let them get to me. I don't want their misunderstanding me to make me bitter and lash out. I won't let them._

_I will help Papillon to cure the monster in him society created. He wants to find his wife. I want to help him. He is misunderstood, I'm sure of it._

_I also think I might still be interested in Adrien Agreste. Lord help me._


	7. Step 2

"Good evening," Ladybug smiled as she let herself in through the butterfly shaped window Papillon had left open for her.

"Ladybug," he nodded, "How are you this evening?"

"Very well, thank you," she nodded, "Although, I believe I'm getting another head cold. I just got over an ear infection a couple weeks ago. I don't know what's going on. Hoping it is allergies."

Papillon smiled, "You are delightful."

"Pardon?"

"Paris is full of anger this evening and your anxious rambling is refreshing."

Ladybug grimaced, "I'm glad my anxiety can help."

"It does," he nodded.

"What are we going to do tonight?"

"I had an idea," he started, "One I'd like you to help me with. I was thinking of keeping a journal detailing the way I feel periodically throughout the day. I might be able to find a pattern and see if I can change it, without wiping Nooroo each time I transform, and try to control it."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea!"

This was their second visit. Ladybug and Papillon agreed to meet once a week to have a sort of superhero peer therapy session. So far, they'd been pleased; minus that first meeting, which they both ignored entirely. It was a mistake never to be repeated or discussed. Ever. They both felt the same that night and fed off of each other in a magnetic like pull; a vicious negative feedback loop.

Ladybug noticed Papillon had pulled the daybed couch thing out of the small room on the side and brought it out into the observatory. The butterflies were fluttering all around, as they normally did, and flitted quietly. The computer was re-positioned near the wall and a larger monitor had been attached. It hummed softly.

Papillon produced a notebook and handed it to Ladybug. She looked at it for a second, "Is this it?"

"Yes," he nodded.

"Have you been keeping notes in it already?"

"I have. Here, look," he prompted going to open it.

"No, Papillon," she held it closed. He looked confused and almost hurt by her refusal to read it. "This is something you do for yourself, not anyone else. It should be filled with your private thoughts that you don't share with anyone. Not even me."

"What if I want to?" he smirked.

She nodded, "I guess that would be okay. You want me to read it?"

He thought to himself what he'd written. There was a part in it about a girl that had given him the idea over lunch. Then a part about a fashion related work problem with Nathalie. Nope, actually, he probably shouldn't let her read it. "Actually, you made a good point." They didn't want to reveal anything just yet.

Ladybug swayed next to him. "Here, sit down," he gestured to the couch and guided her there, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she sighed, "Just dizzy with this head cold nonsense and I haven't eaten. It's nothing, really."

He frowned, "I brought some things." Papillon disappeared to the small room and produced a cart loaded with foods; a vegetable tray, cheese tray, fruit tray, crackers, granola, popcorn, M&Ms, water, soft drinks, and wine. He didn't know what she would want.

"Oooh," her eyes lit up, "Crackers and cheese. Yes, please."

They settled in to watch a movie. Periodically, they'd talk about themselves in relation to something that happened in the film. She learned that Papillon had a son, who was a little deviant in his youth, but grew out of it into the best behaved child a father could ever ask for. He was immensely proud of him.

She let him know that she was a fine cook and about how great a relationship she had with her parents. That her home life was quaint and pleasant without all the fanfare of extravagance. He asked if she'd change anything and she said no. When he asked if she'd still live her life that way if she were in a different social class, with money and fame, would she be the same? She said she'd like to think so.

"I'm not going to change who I am as a person just because of money or popularity. I'd rather not have either if it's going to change who I am. There's a girl I know who picked on me mercilessly as a child. She has both popularity and fame, but practically zero friends. I mean, she has friends, but they're bought, not real ones. I know she isn't happy, but she thinks she is. It's sad, really. I don't even know if she knows how to be selfless. All she cares about is herself."

He frowned, "That does sound...dismal."

"It really is. I mean, I should hate her for all the things she's done to me, but I just can't. I feel sorry for her," she sighed, "I think I kind of feel that way about you, no offense."

"Me?" he was curious now. What did Ladybug think of him?

"Yes," she nodded, "I think you are misunderstood. I can feel it. Just sitting here, I can see it, that you could have harmed me if you wanted. You could have already stolen my miraculous and there's nothing I could do."

"You could do the same," he agreed.

"Yes, but we have a sense of trust now," she nodded, "And I'll admit, I never thought that would ever happen. I never wanted to believe you were evil, but let's face it, you didn't give me much of a choice."

He chuckled, "I can see that. You know I'd have righted everything."

"I know that now," she nodded, "Which is why I contemplated trying to talk Chat Noir into handing over our miraculouses to you."

He gasped, "You did not."

"I haven't," she shook her head, "I just said I contemplated it. Then I talked to my kwami and she said it is dangerous. Not because you'd misuse the power, but because of what she said you wanted to do with it."

"Ah, yes," he nodded. He knew what danger was associated with using the miraculouses together to find people or bring them back, perhaps from the dead.

"She said it has been done only once and it ended terribly," Marinette bit her lip, "But I wanted to let you know that I'll help you, you know? To do what you were trying to do. Considering you're not bringing someone back from the dead," she shivered at the thought.

"No, no," he shook his head, "She doesn't want to be found. I know she doesn't. That night, I said I decided to let her go. It wasn't entirely accurate. I was heartbroken. She had contacted my assistant, not me. She still has not contacted me. She said that in no uncertain terms was she ever coming back. I didn't know what to tell her son."

"Do you think she loves him?"

"Yes," he nodded, "Just not as much as she hates me."

"I doubt that is true."

He scoffed, "I'm not going to argue with you about this. I know how much she hates me and now realize how little ambition she had to be a mother. It is hard."

"That wasn't fair of her," Marinette couldn't fathom someone leaving because they hated their spouse that much, and then leaving their child behind with them. That was just unacceptable. "He's better off without her. You both are."

"I'm starting to believe that," he nodded. "In fact, I've started opening up to the possibility of there being someone else out there for me."

"Do not look at me," she held her hand up to her chest and the other palm out between them.

"No," he shook his head, "How old are you, anyway?"

"Uh, how old are you?"

"I asked you first," he smirked.

"I'm in my early 20s." Twenty on the nose, actually.

His eyes widened, "Ah. Um, I'm in my early 40s." Forty-one, to be precise.

"That's quite the gap," she whispered.

"Yeah," he agreed. Somewhere in the room there was a giant elephant, doing a jig, just daring them to say something about it. No way.

They sat there watching the movie awkwardly for a while before she smiled and clapped her hands together, "So, how have you been outside of your criminal mastermind retirement?"

"I'm doing well," he nodded, welcoming the change of subject, "I work a lot, but I've been making strides in my personal life with my son and his close not-girlfriend. I meant to ask about their relationship the other day, but haven't had the chance to see him since."

"You should make a point of it, you know," she pushed, "Seeing your kid."

"You're awfully assertive," he observed, "Pushy, even. You remind me of my assistant."

"I would like her then."

When the movie was over they decided it was time to part ways. Papillon felt much more positive after their visit, as he had the time before.

"Until next time, Ladybug."

"Have a wonderful evening, Papillon."

* * *

Marinette made it home to drop her transformation. She hopped over to her chaise and pulled out her diary. Time for another journal entry!

_Dear Diary,_

_I have been visiting with Papillon, formerly Hawk Moth, and I really feel optimistic about the change in him. It's a lot like watching a nasty caterpillar, shut itself off from the world, and emerge a beautiful butterfly. Not that I find him attractive, because I don't. Ew. He's too old anyway--40s. He's old enough to be my dad. I know, wrong, but what's done is done._

_I've been feeling strange lately. I have too much drama in my life right now. First Papillon, then Chat Noir, and now I'm feeling all fluttery for Adrien. I don't have any idea what to do with myself. I'm so...Tikki says horny. That's not the case. I'm just drawn to him! I can't help it._

_Well, off to catch some sleep._

_Marinette out. X-O-X-O_

* * *

Adrien woke up to the blinding glare of sunshine.

"What?!" he groaned as he tried to roll over and get out of the line of fire. There was a cackle off to the side where Plagg had apparently found the control for the blinds.

"You wake me, I wake you. Quid pro quo, eh kid?"

"Plagg, don't be such an asshole," he growled and burrowed under his pillows.

"You're going to be late to work."

"It's Saturday."

Plagg lifted his pillow and whispered, "It's show day."

"Show?" Adrien launched himself out of his bed and glanced at the bedside clock. "Shit, I totally forgot. I'm...not too late. Thanks, buddy."

"Not an asshole?"

"Absolutely not. I owe you extra cheese today," he grumbled as he threw on the first set of clothes he found in his closet. Thank goodness for forethought.

His apartment was less than a block from the office so there was a chance he'd actually be on time. He slipped his shoes on, grabbed his jacket, and ran out the door. Plagg chuckled in his jacket pocket as he ran.

"You find this hilarious, don't you?"

He got to the building just as someone slammed into his side. There was a squeal and flailing limbs. Trusting his reflexes, he reached out to stabilize the falling girl.

"Whoa, Marinette," he grinned, "You ought to be more careful."

"I was!" she exclaimed, "I was in a hurry, but you just came out of no where."

He grimaced, "I was in a hurry, too."

"That explains it," she grunted as she leaned down to pick up her leather bound portfolio, "This is the first time I've been asked to attend a show as staff and I'm already screwing it up."

"Oh yeah!" His face opened in comprehension as he grinned, "I completely forgot. Congratulations, Marinette, you're no longer an intern. Welcome to the family!"

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and she thought she was going to combust.

"Uh, thank you," she grinned, "I just hope I'm still welcome after today."

"Come on," he grabbed her hand and ran into the building, "If you're late, I'm late, and we're going to be late together, okay?"

Marinette blushed as she trailed behind him in a daze.

They burst into the meet room where everyone was supposed to be convening before heading over to the exhibition hall for show setup. This was where all the pep talks and finalizing happened. Luckily, people were still up and socializing with their coffees and crackers.

"Whew, looks like we're not late," Adrien grinned back at her just as Gabriel Agreste entered through the back entrance to the room.

Everyone quieted instantly and began to take their seats. Gabriel walked up to the front, right in the center, and took a power stance.

"Good morning. I am pleased to see you are all ready to make this happen. We have a magnificent show planned with a lot of fast paced changes. Everyone needs to be on their toes. Remember that beauty is not effortless, and that is even more true when it comes to fashion. I look forward to working with you all today. Best of luck! Let the preparations begin!"

Marinette watched perplexed as the designers all went to the right of the room, where Gabriel also walked, but Adrien was walking to the left with the models.

"You go over there," he whispered and pointed towards the designers' table.

She grinned, "Thanks," as she made her way to the designer side of the table.

Gabriel observed as Miche, his lead designer, handed out assignments. The designers at Gabriel were collaborators on this collection. Each category, however, had to have a leader. Miche got to suits and said, "Marinette, you're new, but men's formal is easy. It's all yours."

Gabriel smirked behind Miche's back in a way that made Marinette nervous. What was she missing?

Over across the room she could see a charmingly flamboyant veteran male model, Phillipe, showing the others how to flaunt down the runway with extra flair. She heard him say, "Don't just let your hips amble from side to side. We don't want to see you flopping like a fish. We want to see you shake what your mama gave ya so put some sass and 'pop' in it, you know what I mean?"

He was addressing the women, but winked at Adrien before saying, "Not you, baby, you got this. You just keep doing you."

Adrien just bowed graciously with a chuckle.

* * *

Everyone hopped into their limousine entourage to drive over to the show venue. Marinette was clicking her fingernails together nervously as her anxiety picked up with every stop light they got closer to the exhibition hall.

Adrien reached over and grasped her hands. She jumped in surprise.

"Don't worry, Marinette, it'll be fine. These shows are pretty straight forward and I'll be there to help you. I heard you have men's formal. That's sort of my thing," he smirked and winked at her.

She nodded shyly and took a deep, steadying breath. "Okay, yeah, I can do this."

"Good," he smiled, "We're here."

They stepped out of the car, he still had her hand clasped in his own, as he waved at the photographers waiting by the red carpet leading into the entrance. Marinette hadn't realized there would be a reception like this. She really had never done one of these shows before and didn't expect it at all.

"Just smile," he whispered in her ear as he waved and flashed his brilliant teeth at all the cameras.

Marinette tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace than anything. That was until she felt Adrien's fingertips tickle her palm and she giggled.

"More of that," he whispered in her ear, "You have such a pretty smile, Marinette. Let them see it light up your face."

Marinette felt herself grin genuinely at that with a bit of a blush blooming on her cheeks. Adrien liked her smile. She managed to keep her smile all the way into the exhibition hall until the room suddenly spun. Adrien steadied her.

"Are you okay?"

"I feel...I feel..." she held her hand up over her mouth and ran to the bathroom. She'd only just made it to the toilet before she threw up. The entire contents of her stomach painted the inside of the bowl. "Yuck," she whined as she wiped her mouth and flushed the toilet. She came out to wash her hand and rinse out her mouth. _Please have a piece of gum. Please have a piece of gum. Please have a piece of gum._ She did! She pulled it out and stuffed it in her mouth.

When she left the bathroom, Adrien lifted himself away from the wall where he'd been waiting for her, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just nerves," she nodded and smiled, "I'm better."

He raised an eyebrow, "Did you throw up?"

"Yes. How can you tell?"

"Gum," he chuckled, "You'd be shocked how many models used to be bulimic before they passed the laws that you couldn't be that thin anymore."

"No, I wouldn't be surprised at all."

He clicked his tongue, "Yeah, well, father used to carry at least six packs of gum in his pockets."

"I see," she grinned, "Yeah, well let's just hope this was a one time occurrence. I mean, I feel great now, other than I'm suddenly starving."

"Emptying your stomach will do that to you," he nodded, "Snacks are over this way." He lead her backstage to where a large table was filled with finger foods and drinks. Marinette ate until she felt sated and then it was time to begin.

* * *

The first part of the show was all women's wear. They did the athletic, casual, business casual, and formal. Then it was time for the men's.

They did the athletic first. Adrien participated in a pair of athletic shorts and a tight fitting shirt. Marinette had to keep from watching for fear she'd drool down her front. It was then that she decided to just avoid watching him model at all; altogether.

Watching him do 'the walk' down the catwalk the first time was enough to realize what Phillipe was talking about. Adrien didn't really walk like the other models down the catwalk, but for some reason the way he did walk just radiated allure. He was smooth and sensual as his feet practically floated across the floor. 'You just keep doing you' indeed. He was almost prowling as he made his way to the end and back. Perhaps it was from all his years of experience; Adrien easily had six years on the next most veteran model there, including Phillipe.

Phillipe, however, proved to be quite the scene stealer. He looked good and he knew it. As he walked down the catwalk, every step he took, and move he made, just oozed sex. The women in the crowd fanned themselves at his garish display, but the blushes were enough to let him know they liked it. Whatever he did, worked. He did his best to cater to _everyone_ in the audience...and they loved him for it. "Might as well let them have their fantasy, eh, boys?" he chuckled as he exited the stage to change into his casual wear.

Adrien leaned over to Marinette, as he pulled a sweater over his head, and grinned, "He's too much. I love it."

Marinette smirked, "He does know they're watching, doesn't he?"

"Sure does," Adrien nodded, "He's always been that way, too. I think he's been the best model to arrive since I've been here."

"Oh? What makes you say that?"

"Well, the crowd obviously loves him," he gestured outwardly, "And the crowd _obviously_ loves him."

"What about that is good for you?"

He raised an eyebrow and stared at her incredulously, "Do you realize how much less attention I get with Phillipe around? It's awesome!"

She laughed at Adrien's excitement, "And that's a good thing?"

"It is when I take Phillipe anywhere with me. I don't have to worry about people tripping over themselves to get to me; they're tripping over themselves to get to Phillipe. He takes it in stride and we both win."

"I see," she nodded, "I never thought you were so shy, Adrien."

"A little," he nodded with a hum, "I'm kind of a social introvert."

"You better go." She judged him with her hip, "They're calling the line up."

"Oops! Gotta go. See you in a bit. Wish me luck!"

"Good luck!"

Casual went off without a hitch, business casual as well, and then it was time for Marinette to do the formals. She had been receiving everyone as they came off of business casual to hand them the items that were pulled out for them. Her job was to make sure everything sat well, looked good, and didn't have any sort of flaw.

She noticed something was wrong when Adrien showed up with a look of horror on his face. He was pale and wheezing.

"What's wrong?"

"I tore it," he whined looking down at the front of his shirt, "The corner of my ring caught on the pocket and I heard the rip. I don't think you can fix it in time. I don't know what we're going to do."

Marinette looked at the little rip by the pocket. It looked like he'd been seating the pocket square when the rip happened. Marinette tore the silk scarf off of her neck, it had some accents that would match his suit, cut it in half, and shoved it into his pocket. She fluffed it up enough to hide the tear and no one would be the wiser.

"There," she patted it gently and beamed up at him. Then she leaned in and whispered, "No one will have to know. It'll be our secret and I'll fix it later."

Adrien picked her up and spun her around with a 'whoop' of excitement.

"Stop, Adrien, you're going to wrinkle your suit!" she exclaimed.

"Okay." He deposited her on the ground and kissed her cheek, "You're a lifesaver, Marinette."

"S-sure," she nodded, "Now it's about time for you to go. Ask Nathalie and she'll let you know where you're supposed to be."

He found Nathalie and she directed him to his correct place in line. Adrien turned to give Marinette a thumbs up and a grin before blowing her a couple two-handed kisses out of gratitude.


	8. Who's Your Daddy?

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Marinette sat at her desk while her leg bounced nervously. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

"Hey, you're going to rattle your teeth out doing that," Adrien chuckled. Marinette was sitting in her new desk, in her new office, and contemplating her poor decisions as of late.

Three months. Four days. Some odd hours...since her last period.

"You okay, Marinette?" Adrien put his book down and sat up to look at his friend who, ten minutes ago, said five more minutes they'd head to lunch. She'd been sitting, staring at her desk, for the last ten without moving. "You're starting to scare me."

Twelve weeks. Twelve long weeks of nausea, stuffy noses, late night bathroom runs, more spicy food than a Korean restaurant, and pickles. Loads and loads of pickles.

Marinette dropped her forehead to her desk with a sigh of resignation. "No, I'm not okay. I need to cancel today, Adrien."

"What? Why? What's going on?"

Marinette leaned back in her desk and let out a heavy sigh, "I'm not sure. I just don't feel well. I'll let you know what I find out, though, yeah?"

Adrien shrugged. He didn't quite believe her, but he wasn't going to pressure her right now. It was true Marinette had been feeling out of sorts for a while now. Adrien had been insistent she go back to the doctor to see if her ear infection was back when Marinette was sick with a cold for a month. That, the doctor assumed, was just allergies. He told her he thought she might have caught something, too, because of how often she'd just pick at her lunch and end up throwing most of it out. Her appetite just wasn't there anymore.

"I'm getting worried," Adrien added, "So please let me know what you find out."

She nodded, "I will. No promises. They might have to run some tests and whatnot."

"Sure," He nodded and tried to smile, but it was tense and came out as more of grimace.

Marinette hurried down to the metro and caught a train to her obstetrics office. There wasn't a walk-in available, but someone canceled an appointment half an hour from when she arrived. It would have to do.

One pee cup later and, "Congratulations, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, you're pregnant. Although, we can't really gauge how far without actually doing an ultrasound to measure. The HCG levels plateau at about three or four months of pregnancy, and looking at the information you provided, that's about where you are."

She nodded. Words were failing her, but at least she could communicate that much.

"Would you be amenable to an ultrasound right now?"

Marinette nodded again, more vigorously than before.

"Follow me," the doctor smiled softly, "You didn't suspect you were pregnant?"

Marinette huffed, "I guess not. I'm on the pill. Well, I was on the pill. I stopped this morning when I suspected I was pregnant."

"The pill won't harm a pregnancy that is already implanted," the doctor assured, "Although, it is good you stopped."

"I don't even know when I would have gotten pregnant. I was half way through a ring of pills when I had sex."

"How many times?"

"Twice," she grimaced. Two different people. One of them the man who has been terrorizing Paris for years and the other the one saving it alongside her. This was messed up.

"So you know the exact days?"

"Yes," she nodded. They were in her diary. The days that shall live in infamy.

"Okay. Go ahead and put your feet up here and get comfortable. Lie back."

Marinette followed all her instructions. The doctor lifted her shirt and squirted some warm gel on her abdomen.

"I'm just going to get a peek here. Which day was it?"

"July 14th and July 15th."

"Were you taking any medications at the time that were contraindicated with your birth control?"

"Pardon?"

"Any drugs you shouldn't take with birth control that might decrease the efficacy of the drug."

Marinette thought about her ear infection, "I was on amoxicillin."

The doctor nodded and sighed, "I was afraid of that."

The little paddle in her hand pressed into Marinette's abdomen and slid around to distribute the gel. There was a flickering on the screen in front of them and suddenly the room was filled with a whoosh-whoosh-whoosh sound. Well, more like a wah-whoosh, wah-whoosh, whoo-whoosh, whoo-whoosh, WHOOSH, WHOOSH, whoo-oosh, whoo-oosh.

"It sounds like an echo. Is that my heart beat and the baby's?"

The doctor frowned and shook her head, "No, honey, I'm afraid that's..." the wand moved from one blob to a second blob, "two babies."

Marinette felt like she could throw up. Who had she pissed off in some past life that had come back to piss on her parade?

"Two?!"

"It appears so. They both look perfectly healthy and right on track to be born on April 20th. Would you like some photographs?"

"Please," she nodded. No one would believe her if she didn't have the photographic evidence. "Could you make extras?" She had two men to confront with this, after all.

"Of course," the doctor nodded, "Have to have enough to distribute."

"Yeah," Marinette nodded. She'd go with that.

* * *

No time like the present. Ladybug dropped into the observatory and waited for Papillon to arrive. She didn't know how to get his attention, but she was sure setting off his security alarm on this place would do the trick.

"Ladybug?!" He exclaimed in surprise as he found her pacing in the middle of the room. He'd solidified out of his moth cloud vapor in the middle of the room moments before.

"I needed to see you," she frowned.

"Is something wrong? What do you need from me?"

She smiled meekly and averted her gaze. My how Papillon had changed. Less than six months ago he'd sent an akuma to bash her brains in and, now, he was eager to jump in to her aid. The dynamic changes were significant, to say the least. "There isn't anything _wrong_ per say. I just need to discuss something with you."

Her nervousness was palpable and Papillon, being the empath that he was, immediately wrapped her into an enveloping embrace to comfort her.

"I'm sorry you are feeling so stressed," he whispered to the top of her head.

Marinette could feel a warmth wash over her, like a soothing mantle, calming every shaking nerve.

"I'm pregnant," she confessed.

The arms around her tensed, but the feeling of security never lessened. His silence begged her to continue.

"And I think they might be yours."

This time Papillon's head pulled back to look at her. His intense, icy blue gaze fell on her watery azure ones.

"I don't know, though, because the next night I did what you told me to. I talked to Chat and we were intimate, as well." She blushed in embarrassment. This was so humiliating! The way she said it made her sound particularly promiscuous, but she'd only had sex twice in her life. Ever. It wasn't like she made a habit of it. Part of her thought the only reason she slept with Chat was because she was still in a bit of shock from her night with Papillon. She needed Chat to make her feel like everything was okay...and he did. Although, now she wasn't so sure if everything was okay. She didn't know how to think or feel.

"Did you say _they_?" One of his eyebrows cocked upwards in curiosity, but held a bit of forgiveness which melted the tension immediately. He wasn't angry or throwing a fit or anything. He was just listening to her, calmly and rationally. One thing she was quickly learning was just how marvelous a listener Papillon really was. He might act like he's not paying attention, aloof and disinterested, but he wasn't. He was always listening and thoughtful. When she was this close she could almost see it simmering behind his eyes and he exhuded it through his miraculous energy; a flicker of interest in everything she said.

"Yes," she nodded quietly, "There are two."

"And they could be Chat Noir's?" he asked pointedly.

"That is correct." She averted her eyes and shifted in his arms. Papillon's hold didn't falter and Ladybug appreciated the solidity. It was probably the only thing keeping her from disintegrating into a blubbering, trembling puddle of self-deprecation on the floor.

He huffed and nodded, "Okay."

"Okay?" She whipped her gaze back to his and bounced from one eye to the other to catch any sort of waver or doubt. Nothing. He was solid as ever.

He shrugged, "I do have a son, after all, and after you've terrorized the city of love. No, not just that, but the City _I_ Love, for as long as I have, you tend to have a different perspective on things once you stop. If this second chance has taught me anything, it's that all life is precious."

"You've been existentially enlightened, haven't you?" she smirked playfully.

He scoffed, "I don't know if I'd give myself that much credit. Let's just say I have been given an introspective glimpse and I am more ashamed of what I saw than I could ever fully comprehend."

"That's a yes then," she nodded.

Papillon's lips quirked up at the edges and he lessened his hold on Ladybug. He could sense she was calming down and didn't need his assistance.

"So, what's with the hugs? I'm supposed to be the healer."

He cleared his throat, "Within the past couple days I have realized I have the ability to change the emotional response of people I touch." He shrugged, "It was harder with you, however. I believe that has to do with your miraculous powers. I believe I might even be able to change the mood of a room. It is rather exhilarating, that power."

"When used for good," she nodded. "Do you think you had the power to incite fear before?"

"I'm sure of it," he frowned, "Though I was not aware of it at the time."

"I'm glad you didn't know then what you know now."

"I completely agree. It has done wonders for productivity at my place of employment."

Ladybug sighed, "So what are we going to do about this?" Her hand hovered over her abdomen.

"I suppose a paternity test to know for sure. I assume you're going to make Chat Noir aware, as well."

"Yes," she nodded, "I will. I just thought I should tell you first since you were the first."

"It is greatly appreciated," he bowed, "Although, I do have prior obligations I have to get back to. Thank you for telling me, Ladybug. We will address this further at a later date." He paused and frowned, "I don't know if I can ever responsibly reveal my identity in light of this, though."

Ladybug bit her lip, but then as if a light-bulb went off. The reasons he wouldn't be able to reveal would most likely be out of consideration for his son and for his career. He might have a reputation to protect outside of that suit. "I don't expect anything," she smiled, "We wouldn't need to tell anyone and I won't ask you for anything at all."

"You say that now," he smirked playfully.

"No, I promise. I won't. You have my word."

Papillon could sense the intensity of her sincerity and nodded, "Then perhaps, someday. Good evening, Mlle. Ladybug."

"Night, Papillon."

With that, he was gone in a cloud of lepidoptera.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is the daddy? Uh-oh.  
> How does she find out? Ruh-roh.  
> Looks like Marinette is going to have some work ahead of her. :)
> 
> **Personal note: mother of twins here. It was not all hearts and rainbows when I found out.


End file.
